It was full of curiosity that I started from Fort Russell with the paymaster, Major Burbank, Inspector-General Sweitzer, Medical Director J. B. Brown, and others, on the last of May, 1870, with an escort of a dozen cavalry, to pay a few days' visit to Laramie, ninety-five miles north-east of our post. Leaving at noon in procession, with three ambulances and as many army wagons, scaling the bluffs, bare of everything like trees or shrubs, and only covered with grass and wild flowers, and now and then sage-bush and prickly-pear cactus, which are very troublesome to the horses' feet. The roads were, as usual, very hard and fine, so that up hill and down dale we made six miles to the hour all the way. Our first station was Horse Creek, twenty-five miles, where we camped on a fine stream of water for the night. When a party thus camps out, the wagons are corraled, as it is called,--_i.e._ a circle is made of them and the horses are tethered inside or _lariated_ with a rope long enough to let them feed, and this is held by an iron stake or pin driven into the ground. Then the tents are put up in a line, and at once begins the work of gathering brush and sticks (or buffalo-chips), with which to cook a savory supper of bacon, potatoes, and hot coffee. This is the time for cracking jokes, telling stories of pioneer life,--and the colored boys are full of fun. We had one from the South named Tom Williams, belonging to Colonel Mason, of the 5th Cavalry. After enjoying our evening meal and getting ready to lie down in our tents, spread on the grass, as the evening approached, the sun was sinking behind Laramie Peak,--a mountain far away in the Black Hills, towering up eight thousand feet,--and all nature was hushed into repose, and each one with his lungs full of the light air, and his body weary with a long ride, just dropping off to sleep,--all at once there was a yell and halloo outside, which caused me to jump up and look out to see if any red-skins had broke through the guard and invaded our peaceful circle. Instead of scalping Sioux, there was nothing the matter but the return of a drove of large beef-cattle we had passed grazing on the Chugwater, and which sought our camping-ground on account of a bare place where they could lie down and be warm for the night. Our Tom was racing up and down among them, yelling "Hi, hi!" and shaking his blanket in all directions to stampede the poor cattle, who had as good a right as we to the soil.